Year 1 - Week 14: Fireflies like Shooting Stars

We don’t want to leave. This is too nice. Almost too nice. It is somewhat torturous being handed all of these “luxuries” – hot water, CNN, a protein source other than eggs; my systems don’t really know what to do with all of these things. But it might be even more torturous knowing that we have to go back to a place that has none of these things.

Our Sunday was relaxing. We had a half day of sessions before we were set free for lunch. We are running out of decent meals, so we are piling on the food on every plate possible. The afternoon was spent throwing around the Frisbee with a couple Volunteers, swapping music, and swimming in an unheated (read “perfect”) pool.

Just before dinner, my parents called. We laid down what I think are the final parts of their trip out here in December. It is kind of crazy knowing that we have been working on this for two months, and they still won’t be here for another nine. It’s something to look forward to in the long term.

Some people chose to go out for dinner, but I opted to stay in. There’s no need to pay 300 or 400 Meticais for food when there is good enough food being offered at the hotel for free. Some people also went out after dinner. I was a part of the lame group that stayed in, choosing to soak in the wifi, the hot shower, the comfortable bed, and the air conditioner for just a little bit longer. Plus, I had to be up at 3:45 to get a bus to Vilanculos. There was no way I was going out.

That last shower at 3:45 in the morning on Monday was amazing. I took it in as long as possible, knowing it would be the last time I would be truly clean for weeks. Once again, I didn’t want to leave. But there was no choice in the matter.

Our bus to Maputo was pretty nice. We were not in a chapa, but an actual bus. And maybe more importantly, we had a driver who was willing to power through the shitty parts of the road. It was a bumpy ride which kept us awake for the most part, but it was not a bad thing. The ride through Inhambane province is gorgeous. For long stretches, the road is lined by forests of coconut trees. Trying to count the trees is like trying to count stars or grains of sand: you can pull out one here and one there, but getting past ten is impossible.

We got into Vilanculos in good time. With only one major stop in Maxixe, and few short stops along the way, our bus that left at 7:00 arrived just after the bus that left around 5:00. We made a couple of small purchases before getting a call from one of the lucky Volunteers who lives in Vilanculos. She needed help picking up packages from the post office. The problem was we didn’t know where the post office was. So of course, we should ask.

I approached the first person I saw, greeted him appropriately and calmly asked “Onde fica o correios?” He looked at me like I was speaking Japanese. I asked again, and got the same look. He then replied “You can ask in English.” Well, shit. Talk about your language switcharoonies. He explained – in perfect English – how to get the post office. Leave it to me to pick out the Zimbabwean in the group. He said that he had been learning Portuguese for about a year. This, along with another compliment about my language ability just moments before in a store, made me feel pretty good. Few people really believe that we have only been speaking Portuguese for six, and even less believe that we learned Portuguese in Mozambique.

We dropped off our bags at the Volunteer’s house and made our way to the other side of town to get some pizza. One last taste of heaven before heading back to Machanga.

We were up too early on Tuesday. The chapa for Mambone leaves around 10:30 and we had to leave the house by 8. Not a problem; we had to do some last minute shopping anyway. Still, we had to sit on that chapa for two hours before it left. Once it left, though, we made great time. We were in Mambone by mid-afternoon. We stocked up on pasta, bread, and tomato paste. I bought an awesome World Cup 2010 hat for 100 Meticais. One last cold soda consumed and we headed back to Machanga.

It’s weird knowing – and even weirder feeling that – this is home. In spite of the weight of our bags, it was somewhat nice walking back. I was greeted by all the right students, who all welcomed us back in English. It’s nice to know that what we are doing is appreciated, even if we really don’t know exactly what we are doing.

We had to head to the market to pick up some other items – a bag of charcoal and some potatoes. We wheeled a wheelbarrow down the road until some students stopped us and took it the rest of the way. We said we didn’t need help, but they insisted. I’m not going to stop them from helping us. It took three shots, but we finally found some carvão. I gave one of the kids a bit of money for helping us out. We made our way back, and a third of the way down the road, the kids came sprinting down to wheel the charcoal the rest of the way. Sure, we will take your help.

With all the right ingredients, we made some killer tomato sauce. I had hoped that my packages would arrive so we could throw some canned chicken into the sauce, but it wasn’t meant to be. Not tonight anyway.

The night was hot and black. Once the lights went out, all we could see were stars. As I lay in bed, I watched as yellow streaks of light passed by my window. It easy to mistaken fireflies for shooting stars, especially when every once in a while, we really do see a shooting star.

I slept until the absurd hour of 8:30. I’m not quite sure how I did that, but I think all of the travel contributed to the tiredness. I didn’t have a lot to do in the morning, so I dove into a new puzzle book I got. The game is called Kakuro, and it is probably the most difficult Sudoku-like puzzle I have played. I took me hours to finish one puzzle. Just when I was feeling good about myself, Richie reminded me “it’s just a puzzle.” Thanks.

I went on the hunt for my packages. I ran into the Padre here who guided me in the right direction to the school manager. The manager opened the door, and instead of seeing the expected four packages, I saw six. Oh my God, it’s Christmas in Machanga. I was overwhelmed by the amount of food, reading material, and DVDs in these boxes. I think we now have enough food to open a homeless shelter and enough magazines to start a small library. Forget teaching; all I wanted to do was open and sort these packages.

I had mixed feelings about teaching today. There was a part of me that was ready to get back to doing what I was brought here to do. At the same time, I knew only a few kids were going to pay attention. I was welcomed back by students from other classes, and I used that momentum to get through the day. The students were pretty responsive, so for today, I can’t complain about my work here.

Usually, we try to avoid making spaghetti two nights in a row. We like to mix it up, even if “mixing it up” means spaghetti every other day. But now we had even more ingredients – canned mushrooms and canned chicken – to throw into the sauce. It was paradise in a pot. And if that wasn’t enough, we made the cake that my aunt sent me for my birthday. By the end of the night, we felt sick. And we only finished a quarter of it!

We finished watching “Into the Wild.” Good movie with good music. The energy went out at 9 on the dot. I lay down, flipped on the fan that my parents sent me and went to bed easily. With a little flair from America, this place is a lot more tolerable.

The sickness brought on by the cake bled over into the morning. Richie beat me to it. He had two early-morning trips to the bathroom before I made my first. It would not be a pleasant day for either of us on that front.

Richie and I spent a little time cleaning up around the house. Coming back from Maputo, we didn’t do a great job of keeping the place in good shape. I organized the contents of my packages into semi-legitimate categories. We now have a meat section, a sweets section, a fruits and veggies section, and a health foods section. It’s quite beautiful.

I spent the better part of the morning working on a new game book, something called Kenken. It’s somewhat like Sudoku with a little bit of arithmetic involved. It was way too easy. I knocked off the 100-puzzle book in a couple of hours. I think I’ll stick to Kakuro.

With all of these new ingredients, we now have the capability to make something other than potato pancakes and scrambled eggs for lunch. We put together a pretty killer chicken stir fry. We’ll be bringing that into the rotation as long as we have chicken in the house.

I got out of teaching early today. As I was about to begin teaching one of my eleventh grade classes, some kids from the other class approached me. They told me that their teacher wasn’t there and they wanted to combine classes. Let’s see: less time in the class, less writing to be done, less explaining – sounds pretty good to me. 70 faces stared on as I explained what would be on their midterm.

As I walked back from class, Richie was playing Frisbee with some of the kids. Some of them have figured out this plate-throwing thing and have become really good. Of course, I wanted in on this action. By the end of our little throwing session, we had four kids throwing with us, and many other people watching on. Exhausted after twenty or thirty minutes, Richie and I sat back on our porch and watch the kids play.


There was one kid in particular who was of interest to me. He has played Frisbee with us for a while and has picked up a lot of tricks. He knows what he’s doing. After a couple minutes, I noticed that he was teaching one of the newcomers how to throw in a particular way. As I watched this, I thought to myself that this was a tidy metaphor for my role here in Machanga. We spent a little bit of time teaching this kid how to play Frisbee and now he is teaching others. All it takes is one person, and that one person can influence someone else. And long after Richie and I are gone, these kids will be teaching more kids how to throw a Frisbee.

Likewise, if I can just reach one kid who really wants to learn English, maybe he or she will go on to teach a bunch of other people how to speak English. It was a beautiful thing to watch and it’s something I’m going to try to keep in mind throughout my time here, especially when I think that no one is listening.

I spent a little bit of the afternoon helping a kid with some math. He was learning about parabolas. He asked if I could help, and as a math lover, I was willing. Of course, all of my explanation had to be in Portuguese. I think that is probably the best measurement of my language ability. Sure, I can go to the market without problem, travel with ease, and carry on a decent conversation. But now, as I get more comfortable with this language, I am able to talk about things that are way beyond my training. We didn’t learn any vocabulary about functions in training: all of that has come from small sessions like this.

This experience is a lot of give and take. We do give a lot. We give our time and our energy. But what we don’t get paid in money, we get in other forms. We get it in the occasional free crab our corn, the extra help with language, and the general appreciation of a student.

Our night was calm. Richie cooked up some pretty delicious pancakes. We watched a couple episodes from season 1 of “House.” Now that we have the first four seasons, we can watch the series in order. It rained again during the night, and the pitter-patter of the rain on our tin roof eased me into sleep.

The rain subsided by the morning. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. I soaked my sheets in soap filled water, preparing them for a good wash in a bit. The rain from last night turned our roads into a half-sludge, half-solid mess. I had to watch my step as I walked to the market with a pack of smiling crianças behind me. I managed to get to the market with only one foot muddied. When I returned from the market, Richie looked like death. He is not feeling well. Whatever we had before Maputo has stuck with him.

We were back to our regular potato and egg lunch. It’s not so bad when it’s mixed in with some other food. It’s after we eat it three weeks in a row that it becomes stale.

My lesson for the day was short. And once again, I got lucky with my classes. I don’t know where all the teachers are, but a lot of classes have some periods cancelled. This benefited me because instead of teaching the first and last hours of the day, I was able to teach just the first two periods. With my afternoon open, I sat back and read through some of the magazines my family sent me. Richie and I witnessed something straight out of “Planet Earth” – a hawk swooped in and lifted a chicken about 100 yards to enjoy a delicious lunch. It was awesome.

It is getting darker earlier every day. The sun is now and its way out just before our energy comes out. We had an angry sunset today. Dark grey puffy clouds rolled in as the last bits of orange sun gave way. Just as it was getting difficult to see, the energy came on. We cooked up some delicious tomato sauce, spaghetti and garlic bread, and watched some “House” before our energy went out.

I struggled to fall asleep, but had no reason to have such troubles. It wasn’t too hot and I had no major obligations for the weekend. But once I fell asleep, I was out. I woke up feeling refreshed – a few minutes before midnight. Damnit. By midnight, it was hot. I woke up in a dead sweat. I grabbed a glass of water, turned on a fan, and went back to bed.

The second wake-up was at an appropriate hour. I got out of bed, whipped up the beer batter for onion rings, and headed for the patio to sit down with my newest obsession – Kakuro. It took me hours to complete one puzzle, but just (“just”) 45 minutes to complete another. I love and hate this game for the same reason: I fuck it up a lot. Sudoku and Kenken are too easy and take too little time. This is a good challenge.

Being Saturday, we had plenty of time to cook up lunch. We had a rare two-course meal: a delicious onion ring appetizer followed by stir fry. It was almost too delicious to be true. It’s a shame we can indulge in onion rings once a week.

After lunch, Richie went back to bed. I’m starting to worry a little bit about his health. He’s not really getting better but not really getting worse. From what he talks about and how he sounds, it seems to be similar to what I had in training. If that is the case, there is no medication that can help him. While he rested, I sat down with my Kakuro book and knocked out another puzzle.

The wind never stopped blowing during the afternoon. A colleague explained to us that we got the wind because of the river. But I find that hard to believe; if that was the case, it would be windy all day every day. After our colleague left, one my students came by to get some English help. I got the truth out of him though: he was bored in his house and needed something to do.

Our energy came on right at 6, but our lightbulb is no longer working – a minor frustration, but nothing we can’t deal with. We cooked up some French toast and watched some “House” to bring the week to a close.

It’s kind of nice to be back at site. In spite of this recent lull in meaning or purpose, it was a good feeling to come back to a group who wanted us there.